Numb
by Sandrine C
Summary: Last scene of 2x12, what was going through Damon's mind, what led to his actions and why it had to be done.


**Numb**

**Disclaimer: The characters and other things from The Vampire Diaries don't belong to me. Credit goes to the rightful owners.**

Damon lay on the ground, waiting for an answer or death, whichever came first. He kept his eyes closed and tried to focus on the passing seconds, drowning out the images of Rose's body slowly disappearing from sight as he buried her. He squeezed his eyes tighter as if it would keep him from seeing the images he created in Rose's mind before he staked her.

Death wasn't new to him. It has and always will be part of his existence. No choice to be made about it. But this was the first time he dealt it as kindness, a way out of even more suffering. And now he was the one stuck with the unbearable pain.

Damon kept himself as still as he could, completely focused on the feeling of the cold, hard pavement beneath him trying to replace the sensation of Elena's arms wrapping around him, giving him comfort he did not deserve. On the brink of tears for the thousandth time that night, Damon swallowed the lump in his throat and wished he could shut it all off. He wanted to forget the hurt, the guilt, the anger and all the other voices in his head screaming for him to feel. He just wanted to be alone.

But Elena wouldn't leave him alone. Even if she were beside him, at her house or miles away, Elena was still the voice in his head, telling him to be a better man. The cool night breeze grazed his face but to him he heard Elena whispering to him that she came back to see if he was okay. Damon could practically hear her voice, telling him that he was so close to being the man she knew he could be. He could hear the unshed tears when she agreed to leave him, when she rested her face on his shoulder, holding him tight as if she could share his pain.

Damon clenched his jaw, his lips forming a thin line as he looked up at the black and cloudless sky. He wanted to be as empty as the night above him. He wanted to explode and be nothing because then he wouldn't care….then there would be no pain. And Rose's blood on his hands would be wiped clean. And his heart would stop bleeding for a love he could never have. Elena wouldn't even be a memory.

The purr of an engine came closer, louder until the sound stilled and headlights washed over Damon. He played his part, barely stirring when the stranger asked if he was okay. He wasn't.

"What happened?" the girl said in a frantic voice, hands on her phone, ready to call for help.

"I'm lost," Damon said honestly, finding words in his drunken haze.

"You're lying in the middle of the road…"she responded slightly confused as her worry grew, the feeling of paranoia tingling at the back of her neck.

"Not that kind of lost, Damon said, speaking mostly to himself than answering the girl, sitting up and looking at her, "Metaphorically. Existentially."

"Do you need help?" she asked with genuine concern, even as she became suspicious that something was amiss.

Damon pulled out his flask, responding to her with biting sarcasm, "Yes, I do. Can you help me?"

"You're drunk," she said, finally seeing the situation a bit clearer than before but not sensing the danger completely.

"Well, yes, a little…maybe," Damon said, calling out to her when she turned to walk away, "Please don't leave. I really do need help."

Whether it was the slight hysteria or the helplessness in his voice, it was enough to make the girl pause slightly before deciding to keep walking. But she didn't know she would never be fast enough to escape. Without warning, Damon suddenly gripped her by the arms and compelled her.

"Don't move," he ordered her.

"I don't want any trouble," she said rapidly.

"Neither do I," Damon said, his face mired with anguish, almost pleading with her to believe him, "But it's all I got…it's trouble."

"Why can't I move?" she asked as Damon waved the container in her face. He swallowed the bitter liquid, placed his hands on her shoulders and gave her a humorless smile.

"What's your name?" Damon asked not really caring. It wasn't a name he will remember or will need to. He just needed someone to listen and she was the only one around.

"Jessica," she replied, her fear overwhelming her, tears spilling down her face as she watched Damon anxiously.

"Jessica, I have a secret," Damon said, his voice breaking as he continued, his emotions rolling off him in waves that he could not stop even if he wanted to, "I have a big one…and I never said it out loud! I mean, what's the point? It's not gonna change anything! It's not going to make me _good_."

Jessica stayed paralyzed against her will, watching in horror as Damon fell apart, his words just the tip of his sanity that was slowly being torn into shreds, "I mean adopt a puppy…I_ can't_ be what people want me to be."

Damon stared at her with madness in his eyes, "What _she_ wants me to be."

Inch by inch, at the back of his mind, Damon knew he was tiptoeing on a line he was dangerously close to crossing, that he _wanted_ to cross. He couldn't even say _her_ name anymore. The mere mention of Elena, even if only in his mind was something he knew would pull him back. No. He needed to push ahead.

Damon grabbed the trembling Jessica by the arms, convincing himself more than his audience, "This is who I am, Jessica."

"You're not gonna hurt me," she half pleaded and sobbed out, willing herself to run even if she knew it was futile.

"I'm not sure," he drew out, knowing he was standing in front of a cliff and it was a long way down, "because you are my existential crisis. Do I kill you? Do I not kill you?" Damon finished just above a whisper.

"Please don't," she said begging Damon even as she saw his insanity spiral out of control, the grief silencing every bit of reason in him.

"But I have to, Jessica," Damon answered, his voice tight with, his emotions weighing down on him, caging him in his own skin. "Because I'm not human. And I miss it. I miss it more than anything in the world," he said finally exploding, letting out every unspoken wish with that one truth, "that is my secret."

His confession rang in his ears, images of everything that made him want to die flashed before him, Katherine telling him it was always Stefan, Elena telling him it was always going to be Stefan and the most powerful one that hit him was Elena screaming after he snapped her brother's neck. Tears finally fell from his eyes, as he continued his demented declaration, pain radiating out of every word, "But there's only so much…so much hurt a man can take."

"Please don't," Jessica repeated as Damon came closer, a slight moment of realization washing over him.

"Okay," he said placing his hands on her arms again, a pained expression on his face as he decided, letting his tears wash away his resolve to become that monster again, "You're free to go."

Damon stood in place, holding his breath, as Jessica ran from him the second she could move. The moment he exhaled, something in him snapped. A single thought crossed his mind—Elena would _never _be his. _Never._

Not in the way he needed her. He would always come close but he will always fall short. He will never be that man. She will always, always just see him as a friend.

So what was the point?

Damon turned gracefully, a predatory look in his eyes, his body responding to the familiar motions as he flew to Jessica's side and flipped her over. Shutting out all thought and emotion, he gave in to his instincts, sinking his fangs into her and reveling in the feeling of the life pulsing out of her until it stilled completely.

He clung to the innocent blood on his hands, clouding his vision that he couldn't see the point of humanity anymore. As the warm blood coursed through his veins, the distance between him and Elena grew. Killing Jessica was about making a choice—to not feel, to not care, to not want to be human…to not love Elena.

Damon let Jessica fall to the ground, believing the lies—no feelings, no cares, no desire to be human…and no, he no longer loved Elena. He did not love her. He swallowed painfully, his heart constricted as he repeated the untruth—he did not love her.

Finally, he was numb again.


End file.
